The Standard I Never Hold Anyone Else To

I kept getting the same feedback from people who knew me well: I was way too hard on myself. I held myself to a standard I would never dream of applying to anyone else.

It showed up in small ways and big ones — not taking time off when I was sick (or even when I felt something coming on), stacking trainings and events back-to-back with no breathing room, saying yes to every coffee and meeting request that came my way, and volunteering for every team or initiative where I thought I could add value.

And when I wasn't working? I was thinking about work. Turning over what I was going to write next, what new tool I needed to learn, what I might be missing. Even my reading was all business — leadership books, biographies of founders and CEOs. There was no off switch.

Then 2025 arrived and brought a lot with it.

In my own family, we faced significant loss and serious illness. I worried about the state of our country and our world. My business slowed as the nonprofit sector navigated a funding crisis and the corporate world braced against uncertainty.

A gentler version of me might have seen this as a sign to rest. Instead, between January and September of 2025, I pushed harder. I met with more people. I strategized. I worried. Nonprofit leaders with no budget but enormous challenges were never turned away — I listened, I consoled, I coached. Much of it was pro bono, because people needed a lifeline and they trusted me. I'm still proud of that. But I was running on empty.

I hit my breaking point in mid-October.

I found a therapist — young, with immediate availability — and I actually did what I would have told anyone else to do: I paid attention to the signs and asked for help early. In our very first session, maybe 30 minutes in, she looked at me and said, "Wow. You are really hard on yourself, aren't you?"

It stopped me cold. Not because it was new information — I'd heard it before — but because she saw it so quickly. We'd barely scratched the surface.

We worked together for six sessions. She gave me thought exercises and homework, and I did the work. Then came a two-week holiday break where I did no work at all. I came back to my desk in January ready to hit the ground running — and my body, spirit, and soul said: "Not yet. Not like that."

So, I started measuring my days differently.

Did I eat well? Did I rest? Did I say no to something I didn't have the energy for? Did I connect with someone I love? Did I make some art? Did I get outside? Did I move my body? Did I leave everyone I encountered the same or better than I found them? Was I being honest with myself?

Business has come back — and I've come back different. I know what I need to stay balanced, mentally healthy, and genuinely present with the people who matter to me. I say "no thank you" when someone wants to book back-to-back sessions. I say "no thank you" to work that doesn't resonate. I've started trusting that the right things will come — and they have.

My mind is quieter and I’m a whole lot more pleasant to be around. I even renamed my home office my studio — because I'd spent years saying I wanted an art studio "someday," and I finally stopped wishing and started creating the space I needed. A drawing table. My tools within reach. Someday became now.

I'm curious — how are you treating yourself?

Are you holding yourself to a standard you'd never expect anyone else to meet? Saying "yes" when everything in you wants to say, "no thank you"? Measuring the success of each day by someone else's metrics instead of your own?

Here's what I can tell you from the other side: it is freeing. It has made me more efficient, more resilient, and genuinely happier — and the people around me have noticed too.

Shifting out of that pattern takes awareness, practice, and often some outside support. It doesn't happen overnight. Not every day is perfect — but my nervous system has calmed, my mood has lifted, and I no longer feel exhausted every waking minute. That is not a small thing.

If you're ready to explore what this could look like for you, grab a spot on my calendar — I'm happy to chat. (I'll be back right after my walk.)